


Death of the gaze

by womb



Category: Yume Nikki | Dream Diary
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 08:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17577719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womb/pseuds/womb
Summary: Here's an other half baked idea I can't bear to expand on this any longer ///Birthdecay @ twitter





	Death of the gaze

Poniko was beautiful. She was someone worthy of the attention of a crowd. Madotsuki was another faceless person in that crowd, and yet Poniko looked at her like she was someone worth looking at.

Madotsuki often felt out of place as she walked beside her on their way home from school, she belonged in the crowds after all. Poniko halted, her features soft and kind “Did you want to come home with me? We’ve already passed your house.” She didn’t tease her when her face heated up.

A sense of duty was urging Madotsuki describe her allure. And if only she had started writing earlier, she would have filled pages after pages of her diary writing about her golden locks, indigo eyes, fair skin, elegant limbs, graceful stride, serene gaze— Present Madotsuki -who is slightly more mature yet still as smitten- deemed that she can never accurately translate the girl in her mind into words, Nor should she try to.

Poniko is beautiful was what she wrote and she left it at that.

The time she spent with Poniko was a fragile existence, a transient world where time and space are destined to collapse with her mere existence in it, one that would disappear too soon if she as much as blinked outside of what was scripted. And even now as Madotsuki recalls the memories, they crumble with each stroke of her pen.  
Madotsuki hoped that in the middle of chaos, Poniko’s gaze would remain vivid. Their interlocked hands. Poniko’s fingers fiddling with the twin intertwines of her hair.  
And when the lights were off, Poniko’s hands travelled even further. Juvenile explorations of each other’s bodies, mirrored hands tracing over swelling curves. Darkness was the only constant during their intimacy.

Madotsuki laid her head on Poniko’s shoulder, and with a slight tilt she was breathing in her neck. Poniko didn’t immediately jolt but she gradually lifted her shoulder enough for Madotsuki to get a clue.

Outside Poniko’s bedroom walls and isolated by the dark, their sleepovers held no weight. She didn’t think about it before but Poniko never stayed in Madotsuki’s house. They never spoke of it but Poniko never touched her under the lights. It was an unspoken rule for their feverish cravings to be shielded from everyone’s eyes including their own.  
She never understood Poniko, but she was the ruler of their world. A goddess. And she worked in mysterious ways. Her eyes held a look of distaste and her smile of comfort lacked warmth. “People are watching,” she said.

Madotsuki at the time couldn’t decide what was worse: Poniko never looking at her ever again or looking at her the way she did that day.  
Today, she still can’t decide.

For a while, Madotsuki was content in the dark. People keep their eyes shut when they kiss and amidst their lustful bliss. This wasn’t very different.  
But there was little she could do to keep the upsurge of curiosity within her at bay. Sometimes, people take a peek when they are kissing. And even when they don’t, they can always have that option.

So she begged in between kisses and caresses. And just like the pastel walls of her room, Poniko was immovable. But nothing was absolute and even walls are breakable. And Madotsuki held her breath for the moment she would ultimately hover over her and light the lamp.

The dim light illuminating her features, fingers fixed on the switch, hair untangled. She cast a quick glance down. And even with the lights on, Madotsuki still couldn’t decipher her expression.

It doesn’t last before they were back to the darkness, the familiar heat. Later that night, when Poniko was cradling her back, she took a sharp inhale and held her tighter. “Mado” she called in a small voice, Soft puffs of air were finally warming her back again. They were almost the same mass of bony limbs yet Madotsuki has always felt small in her embrace.

“Let’s not do this again” It was a fragile world they lived in.

Poniko’s gaze drifted elsewhere.

Madotsuki wondered if she should have written in length about Poniko’s golden locks, indigo eyes, fair skin— because right now she was turning monochrome.

Poniko was monochrome, her orbs lost in the hollow of her eye sockets. She couldn’t look at Madotsuki anymore, but she couldn’t look anywhere else either.  
Her golden locks—often gathered up in a high ponytail, were on Madotsuki’s head. She was at the center of the world, wearing Poniko’s scalp. Blonde hair didn’t really suit her.  
Poniko was the birth and downfall of their world. She was the driving force, but Madotsuki was tired and it was easier to partake in the destruction of the doomed than to watch it collapse.

Her golden locks was the last thing she wrote before closing the notebook and abandoning her desk altogether. She held the thought for another time. She switched off the lights, Poniko has always been the most beautiful when she couldn’t see her.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an other half baked idea I can't bear to expand on this any longer ///  
> Birthdecay @ twitter


End file.
